


the girl who liked to sit on window ledges

by imaginedandreal



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Memories, inner monologue, reflections, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedandreal/pseuds/imaginedandreal
Summary: I'm in a mood. The Hot Mess Scott's birthday is to blame. Nothing but angsty angst with a side of angst, angst-done. Luckily, short.Scott, I charge your head with a brain and common sense today.T, I love you, you angel.





	the girl who liked to sit on window ledges

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in a mood. The Hot Mess Scott's birthday is to blame. Nothing but angsty angst with a side of angst, angst-done. Luckily, short.
> 
> Scott, I charge your head with a brain and common sense today. 
> 
> T, I love you, you angel.

Right now, he’s leaving. You know perfectly well that it’s for the last time. No, he won’t always be with you. He’s going. You watch him put his jacket on, slip his wallet into his pocket, untangle the earphones of his iPhone...

Your soul is struggling, sobbing. You wish he wasn't watching it. You wish he had left without warning.

He’s tying his shoelaces, putting the earphones in, turning the iPhone music on. The same music you both had listened to so many times, though it was his favorite country most of the times. You’d loved everything about him so much that you even loved the country music. You know perfectly well that no ‘you’ in the plural exist anymore; that it’s going to be you and him. 

Like a life sequence in the last moments before death, the time spent together passes in your mind’s eye. You never could get enough of him - now you won’t have him at all. You’re making an effort to cross his name out of your conscience, but your clothes still smell like him. He is everywhere. You think of how painful it would be to explain to your family and friends why you are apart. And that’s when you get scared.

Even big, strong girls get scared sometimes. When there is something worth being scared about.

He’s moving his gaze across the room, as though checking for anything forgotten. He knows perfectly well that what is forgotten is currently sitting, motionless, on the window ledge, trying not to cry. Only now do you understand why girls cry in movies when they are left.

Even big, strong girls cry sometimes.

You had imagined telling your mom, your sister, that here he is, _ yours _forever. You had imagined you and him adopting a sweet, soft kitten. 

Well, now you guess you can still adopt that kitten without him.

He’s looking at you for the last time. He _ so _wants you to ask him not to go, to tell him you love him, to tell him that you want him.

He’s hoping you would stop him, that, any second, you would leap into his embrace again. He’s begging you to stop him with his eyes.

And you would - if only not for the pride which you’d invented yourself. You don’t want to humiliate yourself in front of him, this person who had kissed you, kissed every inch of you and burrowed himself into every part of your heart. This person to whom you, too, had sworn that you will not let him go. And now you’re letting him go just like that.

It is starting to destroy you. You don’t know to what extent. You know you would rather literally die than let anyone else see it. But it has.

You know that you won’t stand up, scream _ How dare you leave me?! _ and start a tantrum. 

You are a big, strong girl.

He’s the one with the boyish emotions. Always was.

He crossed the threshold. Something broke, tore in both your hearts. It can’t be like that. You don’t want to just be like that. You are alone already. You’re not getting enough of him even now, and yet you somehow don’t care that he will see your tears. 

You’re alone.

He left. You, your pride, and your self-respect had just waved goodbye to him from the window. Or maybe not. The tears made it hard to see…

You are all loneliness. You don’t have anything; on the other hand, you do have the memories, at least.

He’s going.

Going.

Gone. 

When had it started to rain?

You feel drained. You big, strong girl, you. Who else will hug you so tenderly? Who else will so passionately kiss you? 

From now on, everything will be different. Somewhere your psyche is starting to really hate him for making you love him so much. You could have gone after him, but your pride stopped you. No matter the pain, you worry about him and wish him only good. Let at least him be happy in this life.

He’s gone. To think of how many times you had sat on this same window ledge and discussed the names of your future children…

* * *

She remembers it, as the numbers on the phone clock turn to _ 12:00. _She sighs, and opens a new chat, to type a short, sincere message. She will go the extra mile and reach out. That's just the way she is.

There is a _ swoop. Delivered. _

The reply is blooming, with its three moving bubbles. Almost like birthday champagne.

It makes her smile, oddly enough.

Tomorrow, she will make some coffee and sit in her favorite spot.

She will only think enough of him to pay homage to the day that had no choice but to be his.

What a contrast from all her other days, ever since. Eh?

  



End file.
